


Some Things Are Worth The Wait

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Adrenaline, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass Ladies, Debbie is terrible at the talking thing, Developing Relationship, Disordered Eating, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Feelings, Heist Wives, Hurt/Comfort, Lou in that jumpsuit though, Lou is better at the talking thing, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Heist, Recovery, Reunion Sex, Sex, Tags Subject to Change, Tammy has a mom face, Tammy is a bamf, Tammy knows them all so well, Team as Family, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, everyone was betting on them, feeling things out, minor reference to prison rape (in the abstract), this is not hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: A good heist is like good sex. Maybe that's why they ended up in bed together this time, like so many times before. A lot can change in six years though, and this time the undercurrents are something more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly surprised it's taken me so long to write something for these two. I've been obsessed since I saw the film, so much so I went to see it again (though not just for Lou and Debbie), because that movie is a piece of art. I also think this is the most explicit piece I've ever published, though it's not going to be like that all the time. I have a few ideas bouncing around and I was debating whether they should be separate pieces, or maybe a series, or just a whole story together and I feel like I like the way they fit together. I've been lurking in the Lou/Debbie tag and reading almost everything I can get my greedy paws on, and y'all have some real talent. I guess this is my way of starting to give a little something back. I hope you like it, please kudos/comment/let me know. 
> 
> There's a high chance the rest of the crew will show up as the fic goes on, because I'm a sucker for found family, and so are most of my friends. There's also probably a pretty high chance I'll write more, because apparently I just write about gorgeous happy lesbians loving on and supporting each other now. Honestly, I'm fine with this.

The adrenaline is running high after the heist, high enough that Debbie would be dizzy with it even without the champagne. There's no satisfaction in the world that can quite parallel the feeling of a job going off. Maybe for some people knowing that the job would work would be enough but after five years, eight months, and twelve days, after Claude Becker, after elementary mistakes, after being blinded in a way she'd always sworn to herself she'd never get blinded... Debbie Ocean had felt she had a lot to prove. Tonight, though, all of those pieces had fallen into place and she felt like she was floating up among the stars. The key to a good heist was being able to tapdance on the avalanche until the last possible second, and to be able to jump out of range before the world came crashing down around everyone else. She always had had a good sense of balance. 

Debbie is completely sure she can blame the adrenaline for the rush of lust that hits her like a lightning bolt the second she sees Lou in that damn jumpsuit. She'd seen most of the other dresses before everything went down, Rose had been fussing to make sure they were all perfect, which of course, they were, because Tammy knew what she was doing. Lou had simply taken her garment bag and disappeared, and Debbie had figured at the time that it was easier to give her some privacy. She and Lou had been dancing around each other ever since she'd come out, while everything that had passed between them BC (Before Claude) hung unspoken in the air. Five years, eight months, and twelve days later and Debbie was still cursing herself for having been stupid enough to fall for him. Everything was in place to finally seal that chapter of her life for good, sure, but even when she'd said goodbye to Claude, there was still going to be Lou. There was always Lou. 

The rest of the evening passes in a perfect blur, and they go their separate ways because it's harder to track people in ones and twos than it is to follow the camera network back to establish eight people ending up in the same place. The rendezvous is planned for the next morning so they have time to get everything else in motion after the necklace is discovered missing. Debbie is going back with Lou because it's not like there's anywhere else in the city she'd rather be, not like there's anywhere else for her to go. Everyone else has a home to go to, but since getting out, Lou's club is... well, home. Just like Lou. 

She curses herself because Lou has always been home, Lou has been home since they were both teenagers, all long limbs and sharp edges and huge eyes, picking off easy marks with back alley promises and relieving them of their wallets. Low budget cons for an Ocean, but everyone has to start somewhere. Lou has been Debbie's home for almost as long as she can remember, and she had still been stupid enough to throw it all away over that /fucking/ art dealer and Debbie can only hope that maybe Lou might have found some forgiveness in the intervening six years. The signs were good, but the signs... were nothing more than that. Debbie Ocean had built a life on reading the signs other people didn't even know they were giving, and with the amount of time she'd spent with Lou, she could read the other woman like an old favourite book but time changed people and she didn't know whether this edition had had some edits made to it. 

Lou had answered her message, come to pick her up, opened her home to her, backed her to the hilt on the most audacious heist Debbie had ever been a part of, but that was because the two of them had always been an exception to the idea that there was no honour amongst thieves. Debbie had been the one to fuck up that particular unspoken agreement. Lou had done those things because of their past, but god, Debbie couldn't imagine a future without her and this ground shifting under her feet was something she couldn't handle. She wanted to go back, to undo everything and go back and recapture even the oldest of the old days when huddling together had been for warmth just as much as it had been for want, when a good day meant conning enough out of the unsuspecting that they could eat, running jobs in bingo halls and waiting for the dead end. And the feeling of this job coming off, and the sight of Lou in the jumpsuit, and the feeling of being one alarm away from waking up in jail again to find this had all been a dream are combining to make Debbie /want/ like she doesn't think she's ever wanted anything before. 

She manages to keep her hands to herself on the way back to Lou's bike, she doesn't breathe a word of complaint when Lou hands her the spare helmet, pulling it on without hesitation. But beneath the visor she's biting her lip as she straddles the bike behind the blonde, wrapping her arms tight around the leather-clad waist, and pressing herself as close to Lou's back as humanly possible. The vibration of the engine is not helping the hormones making her lightheaded, and if she's leaning on Lou as she hobbles back into the club, it's only partially to keep some kind of balance. There's more than a little bit of hunger in that touch, and Debbie knows she's not hiding it well. 

Lou tugs her helmet off, and the sidelong glance she shoots the brunette knocks the breath from her lungs like a blow. Okay. Maybe she's not hiding it AT ALL.

"You okay there, Ocean?"

"...Yeah. I'm fine. You're... really something, you know that?"

A laconic grin, lips whose taste Debbie can remember like a favourite meal curving up with a tease. 

"Yeah. I know." Her accent is coming through a little more now, it always does when she's tired, and god, Debbie had forgotten that, but it's been a long day for all of them, and the smoky low purr of Lou's voice is something she can /feel/ on oversensitised skin. "Don't tell me you'd forgotten?"

"No I didn't forget. I never forgot."

"That so? Well, either way I think it's time we were getting inside... you need a hand getting out of that dress?"

Debbie could swear Lou just winked at her and dear god she wants to climb the tall blonde like a tree.

"...If you're offering, I'd appreciate the help."

And before she can dig that hole any deeper, before she can pin Lou to the wall, or bend her over her bike, Debbie sashays towards the house with her heels dangling casually from one finger. 

Lou locks up and follows her up the stairs, and Debbie is prepared to swear she can feel those deep blue eyes resting on her back. She looks damn good in this dress too, she knows that, but honestly right this second she feels like the stepsister to Lou's rock chick Cinderella.

At the top of the stairs, a hand comes to rest on the small of her back, just the ghost of a touch, but enough to make Debbie shiver even through the fabric of her dress. It's so sheer it might as well not be there at all, and the feeing of Lou's hand on her skin is enough to take her breath away all over again. 

"You gonna undress me on the stairs now?"

She's fighting for control of her voice but it comes out breathy anyway because this is Lou and this is what Lou does to her and riding on the high of the heist of the century Debbie is powerless to stop it right now, and then lips ghost under her ear, light enough to tease as breath tickles across the sensitive spot that nobody but Lou ever knew about and that husky voice sounds so close she can feel it thrumming in her ribs. 

"...I guess that depends how impatient you're feeling."

And Debbie can feel her knees go weak and she barely has a second to catch her breath before her back's against the wall and Lou's lips are on hers and nothing outside of this moment seems to matter at all because it feels like coming home. 

She's panting by the time they end up in the bedroom, and she's not one hundred percent sure how they got there because her head is a whirlwind but Lou is in control, Lou is always in control and Debbie is fine with this because it means she can let go, just a little bit, just for a little while, just for this moment, because she has been keeping a lid on it all for five years, eight months, and twelve days, she has been keeping her self-control in an iron grip through the trial, through the sentence, through the heist, and now she can finally let it go because Lou is there to catch her and Debbie knows she will fall for the blonde again and again because Lou has /always/ been there to catch her every single time. 

And her fingers are scrabbling at the jumpsuit, trying to find the zipper until she gives up with a noise of frustration and just slips her hands beneath the plunging neckline to graze her knuckles over impossibly warm skin, tracing all the scars she knows from memory are still there beneath the fabric, mapping the life she's led over Lou's perfect body.

Her hands skim up to cup the weight of her breasts, and Lou tugs the zipper down on Debbie's dress with a little less care than she usually shows beautiful things, because this beautiful thing is impeding her progress and Lou has never exactly been patient with that kind of thing. Debbie finds herself lying back against too-soft pillows, breathless and bare and gazing down with naked lust into Lou's too-blue eyes as the other woman settles easily between her spread thighs like she belongs there and gives Debbie /that/ look as she grazes her teeth over the twitching skin of Debbie's stomach on her way down further still, never once breaking eye contact. 

"Fuck... Lou..." and it sounds like a prayer or a benediction, and Debbie herself isn't sure what it is as her hips jerk up at the touch of Lou's tongue against her. Nobody knows her body like Lou does, and it seems the blonde hasn't forgotten anything in the long years since they'd last been together. Claude was never this good, and although she doesn't want to be thinking of Claude right now, Debbie still wonders idly for a brief second what she'd found attractive about such a selfish lover when she'd had this goddess waiting for her at home. Those thoughts were quickly banished as Lou's tongue traced a teasing circle around the base of her clit and Debbie honestly felt she could fall apart right then and there.

It doesn't take long at all. Sure, it's been a long time, but Lou knows where all the buttons are and just what order to press them in. Hell, she installed most of them herself. Debbie comes three times, once on her tongue, once on her fingers, and once more on both when Lou decides she wants to work her just a little more, wants to see how far she can push this, wants to watch Debbie fall apart again and again because she looks /incredible/ when she comes, and oh god Debbie wants to be pushed. 

The come down from the third one is slow and languid because they have no need to rush, and Lou works her gently until Debbie finally relaxes and those chocolate brown eyes flutter open again. 

Her smirk is obscene, and Debbie can see her own slick shining in the low light on Lou's cheeks as the Australian makes a show of licking the remains off her fingers, and somehow Lou is still dressed and really it feels horribly unfair. 

She can still move quick enough to take Lou by surprise when she wants to, and she takes advantage this time to get the other woman on her back while Debbie works the jumpsuit off with the last shreds of her patience. Tammy will never forgive her if it's damaged because, of course, Tammy still thinks they're going to give the dresses back. It's part of being able to carry on the illusion of innocence, after all, but privately Debbie doesn't think she's ever going to let this jumpsuit go because it fits Lou like a second skin and Debbie can't think straight when she sees it. Given how Lou was looking at her in her dress earlier, Debbie has a sneaking suspicion that the sheer black and gold number might not be going anywhere either. Besides, it's not like they can't pay for it now. And Lou is arching up against her, all perfection, all need, because Lou is primal and perfect and Debbie wants it all at once but she's forcing herself to take her time because it's been so long and she wants to relearn every single inch of Lou's body all over again. 

She hunts down the twisted scar that curves over Lou's ribs, around her side, tracing it with fingers first, then lips, and trying to ignore the little note in her mind that whispers those ribs were not that prominent before. That doesn't matter now, that's part of life after, there will be so much life after, but this is now and after can wait. When her fingers slip between Lou's creamy thighs, Debbie can't help but groan a little at finding slick heat. Lou wants this just as much as she does but it's so /good/ to be reminded, to feel wanted and desired and like she's come home because nobody ever felt like home the way Lou does, and Lou is writhing against her like she hasn't fucked in months and Debbie no longer cares about anything else because the scent of her is an aphrodisiac. 

As much as she wants to taste her, Debbie works Lou on her fingers, two crooked into tight, slick heat while her thumb circles Lou's clit and she busies her lips with those gorgeous tits, because Lou's body is a work of art worthy of the Met if ever there was one and Debbie doesn't want to forget a single square centimetre of it. There's some satisfaction too to the way Lou is moaning beneath her, the way she can still play her, if not like a symphony, then a favourite tune on a familiar instrument. Really, there's no better instrument than Lou and the bitten-off expletives that fall from her lips only make it sweeter still. 

When Lou falls apart, she clings on for dear life, and as Debbie eases her down from the high the two of them lie there in a tangle of lissom limbs, panting as the blood still thunders in their ears. 

It's Lou who breaks the silence. It's always Lou, with her smart, filthy mouth, and lips that Debbie can't help but find obscenely captivating when they move, whether they're smiling, cursing, or parted in a moan. Debbie is much better at thinking and observing before she speaks, but in the aftermath of sex like that, her mind is blissfully empty. 

"...Wow. You haven't lost your touch, Ocean."

"Mmmn... imagine my relief... neither have you."

A long pause, and Lou is staring up at the ceiling while one hand plays idly in Debbie's hair and the brunette's nose rests lightly against her ribs. 

"...Been a long time."

Debbie glances up at that, not quite enough to lift her head but it seems Lou can sense the curiousity and doesn't want to deal with it right now, because the hand keeps playing in her hair. It's always easier to talk about some things without looking someone in the eye. 

"...Me too. But it's a homecoming worth waiting for."

Another pause, a beat, a breath, and then--

"Welcome home, Deb."

And Debbie closes her eyes and smiles and nuzzles into Lou's touch because that's the seal, that's the promise that it's all going to be all right, somehow. The heist isn't over, but it's close enough, and the pieces for the endgame are in place, and that's not even touching the nightmares and ghosts lurking on the periphery of her mind, but there are no thoughts but a pleasant buzzing right now because she's with Lou, and the promise of forgiveness is right there even if there are some hard obstacles to cross to get there. This is what peace feels like, and she's been waiting six years to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxkAjrFBcGU
> 
> Bonus link to Sarah Paulson doing an impression of what it looks like when Sandra Bullock climbs someone like a tree.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning is lazy. They have plenty of time after all, and Debbie is rather enjoying the way the sunshine spills through the blinds high up on the old window to paint tiger stripes over the sheets. She can't remember the last time she had a night that restful. Prison was never that peaceful, for a whole range of reasons. The conditioning has been impossible to shake since she left, but with the adrenaline of planning a heist this big, it's been easy to snatch a nap in the spaces between things unnoticed, running over and over the details in her mind. Now life can settle down to something resembling normality.

Debbie's not sure she can remember how to be normal. Even lying here suddenly feels impossible. She feels trapped, edgy, there's a surge of adrenaline through her body that makes it impossible to settle down, and Lou's right there next to her, really real, really there, warm and soundly asleep and /fuck/ she looks incredible like this.

Early mornings have never been Lou's thing. It's part of why the club was a natural semi-legitimate business to get into. Lou has always been a night owl, and Debbie remembers the days when she used to be too, the days when night bled into morning again in the best kind of haze, full of alcohol and laughter and Lou by her side and falling into whichever bed they'd blagged their way into this time. As she aged she settled into a slightly more regular routine, even if 'early' never featured, but Lou never really changed at all.

There's a domesticity to this that roils in Debbie's stomach, because she doesn't deserve it. She screwed this up six years ago, and even if she has spent every single day since cursing herself for her blindness and greed and self-destructive fear... that's not nearly enough to pay the price it would take to be worthy of lying next to this woman again. Not even a hundred and fifty million dollars in diamonds could pay that price, and Debbie Ocean isn't good at being in anyone's debt.

Domesticity doesn't come easily or naturally to her. The Oceans are criminals. It's in their blood practically - just like she'd told John Frazier. Honestly Debbie has never really considered getting old, and she'd always assumed if she did it would end in a gloriously comfortable retirement somewhere hot with plenty of staff. And with Lou. It had always been with Lou and /fuck/ how had she been so blind not to realise all these years. Sure, she'd more been thinking about sun, sex, and piles of money than she had been about the idea of settling down, but this... feels like the kind of morning real couples have all the time and she wants this like air, with an ache deep in her chest.

Never before has Debbie Ocean found herself wanting something that she is so sure she could never, ever have.

For one thing, Lou isn't exactly the settling down type, or at least, she hadn't been six years ago. Debbie supposes buying the club has been settling of a sort. It's tied Lou to a location in a way they had never been tied down before, and she has this little apartment, a space in which she's made room for Debbie. She's kept a place for Debbie in a way Debbie had forfeited when she chose Claude.

For another thing, even if she hadn't made that really, stupidly terrible choice six years before that had been the worst mistake of her life... Debbie knows that if this is what Lou wants, she deserves to have it easily. Although she's not exactly a master of self-knowledge, Debbie Ocean knows that nothing about her has ever been easy, and after prison it's even less so.

She is coming to realise that, lying here and feeling her body thrum on the verge of flight in such a peaceful situation. Just six weeks before she would have been awake four hours ago, after a night which barely passed for sleep. By the end of it all Debbie had become an expert in sleeping through sounds nobody needed to hear, because there was never quiet in prison. Here is quiet, here is a quiet so quiet it's loud, it's deafening her, and she can hear her own heart pounding in her head. She was programmed to wake up before five every morning out of self-defence if nothing more, and some nights Lou wouldn't even be falling into bed until that time. 

Debbie knows that with the heist done she'll have to find other things to focus on, even while they sort the details out, because focussing on a project is the only way to get herself out of her own head and avoid all the memories and fears and... messiness that's lurking there. A project is something she can use as a shield between herself and everything she is so frantically trying to avoid. Grief over Danny, regret and rage over Claude, regret over Lou, memories of prison... she can't bring herself to dive below the surface of that thought even now, and she watches Lou sleep, focussing on the rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest, making a game of trying to match it to calm her own breathing down even as her thoughts race at a million miles a minute and she can feel herself dissociating from everything.

Lou is a touchstone, and now at least she's a touchstone within arm's reach, but Debbie can't move to touch her. She doesn't deserve to. She hasn't earned it. Lou deserves better, and all Debbie has done since she came home is endanger the comfortable life Lou has built for herself without Debbie in it.

"You always did think too fuckin' loud Ocean..."

Lou's voice is muffled by the pillow, and Debbie starts a little despite herself. She takes a shallow little breath and forces herself to reach out and ghost her knuckles down the ridges of Lou's spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

And Lou shifts, just enough to look up at her, those blue eyes so much more intense and hazy first thing in the morning.

"Bullshit you don't. You've always been a head over heart person Deb, and it's never done you any favours."

"The one time I followed my heart instead look where I ended up."

She tries to quip but the words ache in her chest because choosing Claude was anything but following her heart, and everything that has happened in the last six weeks has been throwing that constantly into sharp relief.

Lou is watching her, unblinking and intent, and Debbie almost shivers beneath the power of that gaze. Somehow the smudged eyeliner from last night only magnifies the clarity of those blue diamonds.

Debbie shifts, glancing away. She can't hold that gaze, can't confront everything that is in it, even after last night, even after having Lou /inside/ her again, because that just makes it so much more obvious how she's fucked up in the first place.

"So what did last night mean to you then Deb? Because we've done a whole lot of not talking over the past six years and I don't think it's helped any, so do me a favour here and let me know where I stand. I mean, I let you waltz back into my life, back into my bed even, like no time had passed at all, so I think the least you owe me is-"

"The least I owe you is way more than I'll ever be able to pay, Lou. I know that. I've known that for six fucking years."

"One eighth of two hundred and eighty million goes further towards it than you'd think."

"It's not about money though, is it. It never was. I betrayed you."

Lou shifts against the mattress again, an almost shrug, and her skin is creamy and streaked with gold from the slats above and oh god Debbie wants to touch her so badly. Her gaze is steady.

"We never put words around what we were. That's what I'm trying to fix now. We fucked and we fought and we ran jobs together. Partner covers a multitude of sins, Deb, so what sins are you trying to cover now? That's all I'm asking. What does this mean to you?"

And Debbie doesn't have the words to even begin to explain, because Lou isn't a mark and this isn't a con and she's never exactly been good at anything real, so she stares at the pattern of the sunlight on the sheets and wills herself to say something, anything, that means Lou might understand.

She swallows, ignoring the thumping of her heart in her ears so loud it's almost deafening, trying to find some words, any words, anything she can say before the silence stretches so long the distance between them will be unbridgable.

"Last night..." she begins, still staring at the sheets as if she can see answers in the pattern of the threads, and she is vaguely aware of Lou shifting to sit up beside her, of the feeling of Lou's eyes resting on her, expecting, hoping, dreading all at once, but Lou is silent and Lou is never silent and oh that makes this so much harder. 

She swallows and tries again. "Last night... when we were together... when your tongue was on me... I thought of Claude." And /fuck/ that was the wrong thing to say, that was the wrong thing to say entirely, but Lou is still waiting, Lou is still waiting and listening and giving her a chance to dig her way out of that hole rather than rolling away out of the bed and out of her life the way any other sane partner would, "And I... remembered the way you make me feel. The way you've always made me feel. The way your voice resonates inside me and makes my breath catch without me even thinking about it. The way I can feel your eyes on me even across a crowded room. The way you know me better than I know myself, you know the secret spots nobody else has ever even looked close enough to find, the way... everything about me is really about you, and even if I fuck someone else all I feel is you because everything that feels good to me is something you did first.

I thought of Claude and wondered what the fuck had ever possessed me to look at something off the bottom of a shoe like him and think he had something to offer me. Honestly I think it was fear, knowing I was falling too far and hard and fast for you and being terrified of what that could mean. Of whether it would mean losing you. Of whether it would mean... that when everything fell apart it would be the end of the world. Fear of accepting that loving you meant... not doing what the world expected of me. Because what we did was playing and I could write off playing as so many other things but when I realised it wasn't I freaked the fuck out and I pretended he was a mark, and maybe he started off that way, I don't even remember to be honest with you, but whatever I felt for him, it wasn't real. It was lying to myself. And you know how well I can lie to a gullible mark and I /wanted/ to believe it. But it's not because he betrayed me that I was thinking of you all the time in prison. It was because all paths led me back to you. Every thought of home, every thought of safety, every thought of sex, of familiarity, of family, all of those brought me back to you because it was /always/ you."

Debbie's fingers are tracing patterns mindlessly on the sheets now and Lou is still uncharacteristically silent and she can't bring herself to look up and see the look on her face, too cowardly to watch her world fall apart even as she's trying so hard to stop it. Tap dancing on an avalanche, and out of control.

"And so... I thought of you. Always of you. And then I texted and you came and it felt as natural as breathing and you fell in with me the way you always did before even though you had so many reasons not to, and you had made a space for me in the life you'd built without me in it and I didn't know what to say to that, how to process it, and the heist was there and it was so much easier to focus on that because I've never been good at dealing with my own reality.

And I was trying to ignore how much I wanted you, trying to tell myself... all the reasons why it could never ever be the way it was and you walked out yesterday in that damn jumpsuit and I forgot how to breathe. I forgot how to think. And just last night, drunk on adrenaline and success and champagne, last night it could be like old times and I woke up this morning knowing that you'd built a life without me in it and that no matter what the old Debbie would have done and no matter how much I wanted it I couldn't just walk straight back into that life and act like I was entitled to you. Because I'm the one who fucked us up, Lou, I'm the one who betrayed the honour amongst thieves, I'm the one who ran scared into the arms of a shitstain on the pants of the universe, and even if I hadn't done all of those things, I'm the one who's been to prison, and just because I talk big... prison changed me. Being betrayed changed me. Losing you changed me. And I was lying here this morning realising just how fucked up I am, and just how much more you deserve than the sorry excuse you see now because the cold light of day has never been kind to me. The magic unreality of darkness has always been better for con work, you know that, and you're not a mark but last night I was hoping I could con you into loving me all over again. So... That's... what this is. Was. Me wanting everything I can't have, all over again."

And Lou shifts, and the sheets rustle, and Debbie still can't look up to meet those eyes.

"...Don't you think it's my call to make, whether or not I deserve you? That doesn't seem like the kind of decision you can make for someone else, even you, Ocean."

And now Debbie lifts her head, just enough, just enough, and meets those sapphire eyes, steady and warm, and forgets how to breathe all over again.

It feels like the world has stopped, and Debbie doesn't want to breathe, to blink, to do anything to mark the passage of time because right now in this moment, Lou hasn't rejected her. Whatever she says next is going to be wrong, because she always gets it wrong, and there's no way that's about to change now, so she wants to freeze frame this moment and keep it so she can remember the last time Lou will ever look at her like she gives a damn. But how does she begin to ask whether that meant what she thinks it did, what she needs it to have been between them? 

"...I... It's your call. Obviously it's your call. Nobody else gets to make calls like that for you, and I sure as hell don't either. I wouldn't... you're your own woman. Always."

"Yeah, I am." And Lou is sitting up now and the sheet has slipped down her body and honestly this feels like another sight that's worthy of the Met as far as Debbie is concerned. "You're not the only one who was alone for six years, Deb. And I'll be honest, I hated Claude, I hated him for taking you away from me and because I knew you deserved so much better than him. Some of the stuff I said about you back then, when I was taking home nameless girls in bars because they looked like you, a lot of it wasn't kind. I wasn't feeling very kind. But there was something in your eyes when you looked at him that meant I couldn't walk away. I had never seen you look lost before. I had never seen you look afraid before. And I didn't understand what it was about him that made you look that way, and why you stayed. You were a big girl and you didn't need me and you'd made that /very/ clear, but being partners was more than that and I didn't want to throw away the rest of the history we had because you were following a nice ass in a suit."

"That was the only part of him worth anything."

And Lou grins at Debbie's quip, but she continues, and Debbie feels like she's watching a sunrise. 

"But it's not like I didn't have time to think about it while you were inside. I didn't want to throw away the good parts of what we'd had because some parts had gone bad. I didn't want to lose you over a cockwomble like him. And I knew when you came out you wouldn't have anything or anyone and... even if you didn't want me, I had to do something that meant you'd have a night, or a week, or however long you needed to get back on your feet and walk out on me again."

And Debbie has forgotten how to breathe again and her heart is in her throat. 

"...And what about when I walked out on you and left you to rebuild around me again, like I did last time?"

"I didn't think you'd do that. Not really. Not like last time. But I wasn't planning to ask for anything more than you were willing to offer. That plan went out the window a little bit when I remembered what it's like working in close quarters with you, because I honestly think there's nothing hotter in this world than you planning a job. Your confidence, your attention to detail... they were giving me flashbacks in the best ways. But I was still ready to let you do this and walk out, and take my time to grieve and find a nice simple girl with a good pair of tits and a better sense of humour."

"Oh please baby, there's no one who could take my place." And Debbie tosses her hair, trying for teasing, hoping she hasn't missed the mark. By the way Lou grins, she hasn't. 

"No, but I'd be looking for an upgrade rather than a direct replacement."

And Debbie feigns horror and they both laugh and it feels so natural, and Debbie wants to kiss her but she doesn't close that gap just yet because it feels like Lou isn't finished talking, and while the old Debbie might have taken control of the situation and kissed her to shut her up and ignored or not listened to anything she had to say, new Debbie is so grateful to have the chance to experience this at all that she would listen to Lou talk for hours on end without interruption given the opportunity.

"So I wanted you, but more importantly I cared about you. I didn't know how you felt about Claude, although I was pretty sure I had an idea. I let you... do what you needed to do, because you lost a brother, you came out of prison, you... weren't in any kind of place to be making big decisions."

"Robbing the Met doesn't count as a big decision?"

"Not when the heist is as well-planned as that one, darling."

And Debbie feels proud despite herself, because that's one hell of a compliment, and when it comes down to it, Lou's is about the only opinion that matters these days, especially with Danny gone. 

"So until last night I was... letting things run their course. But even I have my limits, and you looking at me like that, in that dress, that was my limit. That was way past my limit. The limit wasn't even a dot in the distance when I saw that look on your face because better than anyone else I know how you look when you want so much you can't even think. And you wanted me. I told myself that we would talk about it in the morning, and that whatever came out of that talk I would not regret being with you one last time. And I don't."

And Debbie's fingers are worrying the sheet again, tracing the edge, folding it backward and forward and running back and forth over the soft cotton. She bites her lip and her voice is quiet as she asks:

"...Does it have to be the last time?"

"That ball was in your court. And despite the fact that you were apparently thinking of Claude when I was eating you out last night, from what you said I'm pretty sure that you don't want it to be."

"I don't, Lou. I don't. I-" and she's trying again, but at least they have some kind of understanding, at least she doesn't feel like she's teetering on a knife-edge any more, "I don't have a life without you in it, as long as you want to be in it. I'm not interested in trapping you, I'm not interested in taking advantage of you. I'm not interested in... in being that person. But even when I was that person there were parts of me you still liked and I'm hoping those are still there."

"They are. A lot of the worst habits were knocked out of you before prison, honestly, but there was always someone underneath who I knew was going to be my ride-or-die until... well."

"Until the end of the line." Debbie finishes, and Lou nods. "I want that. You're my ride-or-die. Always were, even when-. Well. Even when. Nothing he said or did or thought ever came close to threatening that bond. It was sex. Sex and fear. Not even very good sex."

"Fear? You were scared of him?"

"Not of him. Just scared. Of everything else. Myself mostly. And... I want this. With you. If you want it with me I want it with you, but I am damaged goods in ways I don't even understand yet, so this... whatever this is is going to be messy and hard on both of us and I understand if you don't want to sign up to find out what prison did to me. Because I don't think I want to know but I can't see a way out of finding out just yet."

And Lou takes her hands, and her skin is warm, just as warm as the sheet where it's been lying in the sun, and it's softer and firmer and it feels like an anchor. Debbie has to resist the urge to cling on so tight her knuckles go white, and earth meets water as Lou squeezes gently. 

"We'll find out together, Ocean. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. You're worth that. You always have been, no matter what anybody else told you. So we'll make this work together. We've always been able to pull off more together than we have alone, you know that."

"More than the sum of the parts."

"That's right. How about we start with breakfast? You've been looking kinda thin..."

"I could say the same for you."

"Yeah, well. Let's maybe leave that one till after some real food, shall we?"

"I thought you didn't eat this early in the morning?"

And Lou looks her pointedly up and down, her gaze dragging slowly and Debbie's cheeks colour despite themselves, and Lou's accent is thick again as she purrs,

"Well, there's always the occasional exception..."

And then she winks and shifts out of bed, stark naked and painted in sunshine, tugging Debbie with her. 

"C'mon. Let's see what's left in the fridge."


	3. Chapter 3

It turns out that what's left in the fridge isn't much. There's some three day old Chinese takeout, but even as hungry as she is, Debbie isn't prepared to risk that. Lou sniffs it, pulls a face, and puts it back again. Debbie stares at her. 

"...If it's bad, we can just throw it out? I mean, honestly I'd expect it to be bad right now?"

"I agree entirely, but it's Constance's, and if she's going to leave her shit lying around in my place then she can be the one to clean it up. Since she should be here later, I don't feel bad about leaving it another couple of hours since I don't think it's going to spontaneously turn green and take over the fridge in that time."

Debbie can see the logic in that, but honestly it would just be so much better to throw it out and not have to think about it anymore. Her mind makes lists, and if tasks like that aren't ticked off as soon as they're discovered, they accumulate until it starts to get overwhelming. Lou is a lot better at compartmentalising where Debbie can only see all the little pieces of the big picture at once, it's part of the reason jobs run so smoothly when it's the two of them.

Other than that, there's some milk that's fresh enough, and some eggs that don't float in a pan of water. Lou tugs them out and sets them on the counter, opening a cupboard above them to rummage for flour and sugar. She has a plan, evidently, and Debbie's not about to argue with it. It's still a strange thing to be hungry. Logically she knows that she's burned a whole lot of calories in the last twelve hours, let alone the last twenty four, she knows that her body needs fuel, that she can fuel it now, that she doesn't have to wait for regimented times to be given food she doesn't choose and try to force it down. Prison's done a number on her relationship with her body in so many ways, and it's starting to tell on her. 

It was easier in the first week when the novelty of freedom hadn't entirely worn off yet, and the headiness of it all had her wanting to try all the things again to prove she could. It felt like flipping off the system every time she did something even a little bit against the grain. But that headiness hasn't lasted, it never does, and now she's floundering around without a structure, without even the heist to grab onto anymore, and she doesn't know how to build that kind of structure for herself again. It's like starting from scratch and she doesn't even have the blueprints. The only thing she has to cling onto is Lou, and when it comes to things like this, Lou's never really been that good at them either. On top of that, of course, this... thing between them is still so very new. It's simultaneously new and old and Debbie doesn't want to put too much pressure on it in case it shatters, while at the same time knowing that if she doesn't hold on tight she might just drown. 

To distract herself she reaches out again to brush her fingers down the line of Lou's spine. 

Lou glances up from what she's doing, measuring things into a bowl, and there's a soft smile on her lips, a vulnerability Debbie wasn't expecting. 

"Just can't keep your hands off me, huh?"

"Since when have I ever been able to keep my hands off you? It's not my fault you're so tempting standing there, brazenly naked and perfect." Debbie replies with a smile and it feels so natural she can barely breathe. 

"It's true, I am perfect, I can't help it. I'm not cooking these naked though, so one of us is going to have to put some clothes on if you want to eat."

"I bet you say that to all the girls..."

"Actually..." Lou hesitates for just a moment, switching her attention back to the bowl and its contents because she can't quite meet Debbie's eyes when she admits this, "No. I'm not in the habit of making breakfast in the morning."

"You kick them out hungry?" Her voice is light and teasing, but Lou's still quiet and serious. 

"No I just don't bring them back here. We go to their place, and then I leave when it's done."

Debbie frowns a little, surprised by that. She wouldn't have blamed Lou for bringing girls back here, after all, a building like this is one hell of an aphrodisiac in a city like New York. 

"You just sneak out in the middle of the night? Not very gentlemanly."

"There are always goodbye kisses."

"And I bet you never leave a number."

"I don't. And I couldn't have brought anyone back here anyway, I haven't slept with anyone since before I bought the place."

Now /that/ takes Debbie by surprise. As far as she knows, Lou bought the club soon after she went away. Lou was never exactly a player, but the thought of being celibate for six years? That's... well. One hell of a coincidence?

"I know you're probably gonna tell me not to read too much into it, but..."

"Don't read too much into it. Not everything is about you." Lou tells the bowl of what Debbie is pretty sure is pancake batter, but then she looks up, fingers drumming uneasily on the surface. "Not everything is about you but that was, maybe, a little. We weren't together, and when you were with Claude I had no problem whatsoever sleeping with other people. The night you went behind bars, I went out to get drunk out of my mind and fuck someone to get you out of it, and she was young and pretty and more than willing, but when she went down on me I couldn't stop thinking about all those fucking prison horror stories and wondering whether someone was doing that to you. It felt... dishonest? No... I don't know. It felt like cheating, okay? Like I was putting you at risk somehow. Even knowing that we weren't together, even telling myself I didn't care, every time someone got close my mind presented me with images of you... doing stuff you didn't want to, so it was just easier to stop, to not get close to anyone, and to tell myself that you weren't getting laid at all, and neither was I and that was okay."

And Debbie's breath is catching in her chest, and her heart is aching fit to burst, and her eyes are burning because she doesn't know what to say to that. She doesn't know how to process someone caring about her /that much/, someone who had every reason in the world to hate her at that time, someone who didn't owe her anything. And she knows Lou won't want her to say anything 'soft', because Lou hates attention being drawn to her vulnerabilities even when she willingly lays them out like this, that's why she never makes eye contact when she's talking about things that matter. 

Instead, she tucks herself up against Lou's back, arms around her waist, and rests her forehead on Lou's shoulder. Neither of them are good at the face to face stuff, but she's willing that somehow her gratitude is showing. She can feel Lou's heart beating in time with hers, feel their breathing sync up and she closes her eyes and focusses on the warmth of Lou's body against her and the way they feel like one person like this. 

It's Lou who breaks the silence, it has to be after her confession, and she pushes herself away from the counter, making Debbie take a step back, and when their eyes meet, Debbie can see that Lou's old eye makeup has smudged just a little bit more, but she doesn't say anything. 

"I'll go put some clothes on. You'd only burn them anyway. And I'll grab your robe, the others will be here soon and we should probably at least /try/ to look semi-decent."

And all Debbie can say is "Thank you", and she hopes Lou knows it means for so much more than just the clothes and the breakfast. Neither of them has ever been good at talking about big things, but apparently they're going to have a whole lot of practice this second time around.

It's only a matter of minutes before Lou returns in a pair of boxers and a crop top, both black, both Calvin Klein. Debbie wonders whether they were acquired legimitately or not, but only for a moment because honestly the way the shorts hug the curve of Lou's ass and emphasise the length of her legs has Debbie's mouth a little dry. She always has had a thing for tall girls, and Lou like this is almost as good as Lou naked. 

She puts a frying pan on the hob, starts heating it and when she's satisfied with how hot the oil is she measures the first portion of batter into it, focussing on that rather than anything else. One thing at a time, always. Debbie never focusses like that. 

Debbie manages to pull her attention away from Lou for long enough to grab the silk robe the Australian brought down with her and pull it on. It feels incredible on her skin, making all the hair stand on end on her arms. It's such a contrast to prison jumpsuits and federal issue pyjamas, and although once upon a time it was normal to her, she's still getting used to it again now. Does she even know how to relax? That's a whole different question, and she's not really ready to contemplate it yet. There's a whole lot of things Debbie is putting off considering. 

"You always did do long and elegant exceedingly well."

"You've always done androgynous deliciously."

"I do make it work. But I appreciate your style too. I could never pull it off, but it's so perfectly you."

Debbie smiles a little shyly, leaning on the counter right up close to where Lou's focusing on the pancakes. 

"You missed me too huh?"

"Yeah, I missed you. How many times are you going to need me to tell you that?"

"Probably a couple more to be honest. I'm feeling kinda insecure."

"Debbie Ocean insecure? Never."

But there's a playful note in Lou's voice and warmth in those blue eyes as she shoots Debbie a sidelong glance, and Debbie blushes despite herself because being this close to Lou again, having so much of what she'd dreamed of makes her feel like the kind of ridiculous teenager she never was. 

"You know me, baby. Cold as ice."

"With a caramel heart."

"Don't go spreading that around, you'll do nothing for my image. Reputation is everything in this game baby, you know that too."

That provokes Lou enough to grab Debbie by the hip and tug her into a kiss, pressed up against the counter, and Debbie's lips part easily, because she wants this, every single moment of Lou's touch, of Lou's lips, of /Lou/ that she can get, she craves. 

It's not that much longer before there are two perfect pancake stacks on plates, and Debbie moves to a chair as the plates hit the table. 

"These are good." her voice is muffled, because they are perfect, light and fluffy and sweet with syrup, "I forgot how good you are in the kitchen."

"I'm a woman of many talents it's true."

"I never doubted you... sounds like you've not really been exercising them so much though. Never used to have such an empty fridge when I was living with you before."

"No but that's mostly because I had you to feed."

Debbie doesn't have much to say to that, but she does poke at the pancakes with her fork for a moment, considering. She's enjoying them, really, she is, but the whole food thing is still weird and being reminded of how easy it all used to be is a little uncomfortable. 

Lou watches her for a long moment. 

"...You know... they're already dead right? They're not gonna fight back, you don't have to keep stabbing them."

"No, no... I know... I know. And they're delicious. They're really good. I just..."

"What's eating you, Deb? Or rather, what is it that means you're not eating?"

"I just... feel so disconnected. I don't..." she swallows, tracing patterns in the syrup with her fork, "I lost control of my body for so long I don't know how to listen to it anymore. For six years I was living on someone else's schedule, eating, sleeping, pissing to a bell. I haven't been able to choose anything for six years. Prison food might be better than they say, but it's still terrible, and I don't even know whose body this is anymore because it's sure as hell not mine. I spent hours in the gym when I could, just to do something with my body to try to get tired enough to sleep, to try to block everything out of my mind. I look in the mirror and the person staring back at me isn't the person I remember and I don't know how to live in this body anymore."

Lou sets her fork fown with a clatter, because this is serious. She doesn't know what she expected really. She was teasing because she knew that was how to get information out of Debbie, but this... well. Debbie had tried to warn her. Debbie had said she was fucked up and Lou had promised they would go through it together. To be honest her own stomach is turning now, just a little bit, and she doesn't know what to say. 

"... Okay. Okay." and Lou takes a breath, focussing on the problem, because she only ever solves the problem that's in front of her, and right now it's one hell of a problem. It goes some way towards explaining the changes she's noticed in Debbie since she came out, changes Lou had put down to the heist, figuring in time they would even themselves out. She doesn't know how to process this in the face of what they did last night either. Last night... well, maybe that's a starting point. "You say you don't recognise your body anymore. Last night... did that feel like your body? Because... it seemed like it to me."

"Yeah, last night, with you, last night was amazing, last night was..."

"Well maybe that's some place we can start then. There are worse ways to be in your body than sex."

"That's even truer when it's sex with you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is. So that's my issue. What about you?"

"I don't have any issues."

"I mean, maybe I'm misremembering because six years is a long time but I'm pretty sure I didn't used to be able to feel your spine when I cuddled up to your back like that."

"Well. Like you said. Six years is a long time."

Debbie sighs because getting honesty from Lou sometimes feels like pulling teeth, but she doesn't want to push this. It's not really like she has any basis to judge. 

Lou stares back for a long moment, shoulders square and back ramrod straight as if tensing for a fight, but all that fight goes out of her in one long exhale and she offers a one-shouldered shrug instead. 

"It got... hard. When you weren't around... I'm not saying I went off the rails but some things just seemed... less important. Less interesting. You were always the one finding the hidden gems, calling the takeout places, dragging me to holes in the wall that served the best ramen or meatballs or pizza. The hunger pangs... reminded me I was alive, because everything just felt a little bit dull, a little bit numb. Those little stabbing pains helped me focus. I knew it wasn't healthy, but... that didn't really matter at the time. Turns out once you get out of the habit of eating it's hard to get back into it. With you to feed it got easier, and the others too, but now... I guess it just doesn't register."

"...Some pair we make, huh Miller." And it's a statement, not a question, lightly resigned and affectionate all at once and it makes Lou smile. 

"Something like that. But we're both going to have to get better at it, I guess, rebuild something."

And Debbie reaches across the table to take her hand and squeezes gently, dark brown eyes warm as she smiles, achingly soft, and Lou can't help but smile back, drowning in those eyes. 

"I think we can manage that. We did rob the Met Gala, after all."

Lou's smile widens, mischief dancing again in those blue eyes. 

"Yes we did. Speaking of which, the kids will be here soon, so we should probably eat up."

And Debbie laughs, the tension breaking and the knot in her stomach unravelling, just a tiny bit as she picks up her fork and goes back to her pancakes. She stops mid-bite to shoot Lou a look as something registers. 

"Did you just call them 'the kids'?"

"Yup." Lou replies, unconcerned, munching away on her own breakfast, "You don't think of them that way?"

Debbie gives her a look and then goes back to her food.

"...You're dad."


	4. Chapter 4

Tammy's the first to arrive. It's not all that surprising really given that she's got a whole real life away from this which is predicated on her being on time. Debbie doesn't doubt that Tammy is the kind of mother who will always be there for her children exactly when and where she said she would, come hell or high water. Her parents were never like that, but they weren't exactly paragons of virtue. Tammy, on the other hand... well, whatever she does, she does it one hundred percent. It's part of what makes her such a great asset, and a great fence. For a brief moment Debbie feels a little pang of guilt that she dragged Tammy away from that family life, but on the other hand it's not like she forced her to come, and Tammy has been very clear the whole time that, while she takes motherhood very seriously, it doesn't define her. That and her share of the proceeds has the potential to make a serious difference to her family's quality of life. 

"What's in the bag, Tim-Tam?"

"I stopped off at a bakery for bagels and donuts. I figured you two probably wouldn't have the energy, but I don't think it's going to be very popular if there's nothing here for breakfast when the others show up. Particularly Constance. That girl can eat."

"I think it's mainly that she eats when there's food. You don't leave things unless you can take for granted that there will be another opportunity later."

Debbie glances back at Lou, almost surprised by that insight. She hadn't really thought about it that way before, but life on the streets as a hustler is pretty tough, there's no two ways about it. Well, although the amounts of money they're talking about would be life changing by anyone's standards, Constance is definitely the one who's going to be in a whole new world. She wonders for a second whether it might be worth talking to her about it - sudden wealth from nothing at all is a rough transition, and it's not like Constance has anyone else to give her advice. She dismisses the thought for now, too worried that it would come off patronising, but she doesn't want to see Constance crash back out on the streets again in six months either. Something else clicks into place, and Debbie realises that's why Lou didn't throw Constance's food out. Thinking that you have something only to find someone else has disposed of it is always awful, but when it's something that's as vital to survival as food... yeah, no. It was the right call. 

Tammy walks in past Debbie and sets the two bakery bags on the counter, then looks them both up and down. 

"...How about I start making the coffee and you two go put on actual clothes?"

Lou tugs Debbie back against her, still just in her shorts and crop top with acres of gorgeous skin going on forever, and grins at Tammy over Debbie's shoulder. 

"And here I thought we were perfectly decent."

Tammy's seen it all before, and rolls her eyes. 

"You two are barely decent at the best of times. I guess I can assume you've finally resolved that tension that's been there the whole time though?"

"What do you mean that's been there the whole time?"

Tammy arches her eyebrows, and Debbie suddenly has the distinct feeling that she's practising for when her kids hit puberty. It's the kind of mom look which can make guilt turn in a person's stomach even when they don't think they've done anything.

"Are you seriously telling me you weren't aware of it? You had the whole team together less than a week and Nine Ball was running a pool on how long it would be until you two fucked. Even /Rose/ is in on it, and she is a dear, sweet girl but I have never met anybody more oblivious. She's in her own world at least fifty percent of the time and even she was picking up on it. You two came into this with more baggage than a group therapy session. I don't know whether you thought you were hiding it, or whether you thought you were dealing with it, but you weren't successful, whichever one you choose."

Debbie Ocean has the good grace to blush. 

"....Yeah uh... we... we took care of that."

"Good."

Debbie is trying and failing to ignore the way Lou has her face buried in her neck, shoulders shaking with poorly suppressed laughter. At least Lou finds it funny. 

Eventually the tall blonde manages to compose herself, and straightens up to grin at Tammy again. 

"Yeah, we'll go take care of the clothes thing Tam. Thanks. You know where the coffee is right?"

"Yes I do. You'd better get moving."

And the two of them head upstairs, Debbie already mourning the loss of the sight of Lou in nothing but a crop top and shorts. She's decided it's her new favourite look, or second favourite, coming closely behind naked. Really, there's nothing that Lou doesn't look good in. 

By the time they come downstairs, Amita and Nine Ball are already there. Amita looks surprisingly awake given how late the night before was, and Debbie's pretty sure she'll crash hard later. Late nights aren't exactly a normal part of Amita's routine, after all. Nine Ball looks pretty unfazed, but then, she's unfazed by anything. Debbie still finds her absolutely fascinating, and she hoped there's the potential for a future partnership here. She might not understand the tech side of things, but she knows enough to tell when she's working with a genius, and Nine Ball definitely qualifies. Besides, she's chill as fuck and not Russian. Debbie's pretty down with all of that. 

Tammy gives them both a look when she hands over the coffee, and Debbie just about manages to suppress a sigh when Lou just answers her with a shit eating grin. 

"How are you two doing today? You sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I was surprised actually, I mean I figured I'd be too excited to sleep, especially after, y'know, being in close proximity to Taylor Swift last night, stealing the diamonds aside, but I don't know, it's like I got home and all the adrenaline just vanished and I crashed out /hard/. I only got up this morning after my alarm went off like three times. Apparently I was snoozing it in my sleep. I didn't even know you could do that."

"You can do a whole lot in your sleep," Nine Ball replies in her usual laconic tone, "We don' really think about sleep that much, but it's a fascinatin' process and poorly understood. Sleep walkin, things like that. You want somethin' tha' might stop you sleepin' ever again you should look up sleep paralysis. Now that is some scary shit."

Debbie glances at Amita's expression. 

"...Yeah, maybe let's not do that."

"Do you two want bagels?"

"We're okay thanks, but we'll save some for later. Thanks again Tam, you're a lifesaver."

Lou's the one who goes over to the boxes and picks out something for both of them. In light of their previous conversation, Debbie knows it's an attempt to find some normality. Lou's right. She always used to be the one who got excited about food and found new places to try, but now... she hates the disconnect. It's not that she only just realised it was there, but during the job it was easy to ignore. It's not so easy in the aftermath, and everything just feels magnified now. If Lou's taking a little bit of charge, even though it's just as foreign for her, then maybe they'll figure it out in the end. 

Debbie just goes over to the little pile of velvet boxes they have, already premade, and hands Amita and Nine Ball the correct ones. 

"You did a great job. The pieces were beautiful, and you turned it round so fast."

"Like I said, the prospect of not having to live with my mother anymore made the difference on that score. That, and knowing exactly what I had to work with so I could plan. I managed to sneak out before she came looking this morning, but I swear as soon as I run into her I'm going to get lectured about last night. Kinda hoping I'll be able to put that off forever to be honest."

Debbie grins. 

"I know how that can go. But you should feel good."

Amita's smile is small but real as she toasts Debbie with her coffee. 

"Thanks. I'm good at what I do. It's nice when I get the chance to prove that, and have it recognised."

"What are you thinking you're going to do with your share of the money?"

"I don't know. Buy another apartment. Maybe travel some. I might set up my own business. Family's great and all but... I'm pretty confident I can make a name for myself. Maybe I'll talk to Rose about it, see if she wants to partner. High end couture, and jewellery to match. We could make a pretty good team."

"I like that idea. Lou and I would be sure to patronise you. Or, well, I would."

"You've always been the more patronising of the two of us, darling."

Debbie resist the urge to flip Lou off across the room. She'd only take it as encouragement.

Amita is watching the two of them with a raised eyebrow. 

"You know you'd have to actually pay, right? Like with money?"

"Yeah I know. But I'm sure you'd give me an old friend discount, right?"

"We might be able to negotiate something."

Tammy sighs and looks at Nine Ball, who's stopped staring at whatever is on her computer screen and is glancing between Lou and Debbie. 

"...Who won the pool?"

"You did, actually. Guess we'll have to wait till the others get here to decide whether your prior knowledge of these two counted as insider information or not."

"They're both too bull-headed for that kind of experience to count as prior information."

"...I feel like I should be offended."

"If I were you love, I wouldn't waste your energy."

Debbie shoots Lou another look, trying to ignore the way Amita, Nine Ball, and Tammy are all grinning, but there's another knock at the door and she heads to answer it. 

Rose is there, in her trademark sunglasses, and Debbie smiles and steps aside as the designer scurries into the room. 

Lou's already holding the box out for her piece of jewellery, and Rose heaves a sigh of relief as she finally hands it over, like the weight's been lifted from her shoulders. She held up remarkably well considering, but Debbie's pretty sure Rose isn't a natural criminal. Fortunately they seem to have pulled the job off, and although Rose isn't the kind of person she'd normally associate with... Debbie's pretty sure she has a friend for life in Rose, and she's kind of glad about that. It feels like the first step towards getting a normal kind of life back. All of these women are friends for life now, closer to being family, and she's starting to appreciate why Lou called them the kids. It's... a strange thought, and Debbie swallows as she feels herself getting a little choked up. It was never meant to be something this big, it was never meant to be something... that turned into more than a job, but a job this big was never going to be that simple either. 

"Hey Rose, how are you doing? We've got bagels and donuts, and coffee... how do you take it?"

"Oh I'll have tea please dear... if that's not too much trouble?"

"No, it's no trouble at all. I've got a couple of different kinds, what would you like?"

"What have you got?"

"English Breakfast, Earl Grey with lavender, a strawberry rooibos, peppermint, cammomile and spearmint, ginger, apple and cinnamon, black tea with quince..."

Debbie stares at Lou. How is it that she's been back for six weeks, practically living in each other's pockets, and she's just now hearing about this? Heists always demand coffee, that much is true, but this seems like a big thing. 

"Oh that Earl Grey sounds lovely dear, thank you... I'll have a cup."

"I'll make a pot. Milk or lemon?"

"Oh just black please dear, I wouldn't want to interfere with the flavours, that sounds delicious. Where on earth did you find it?"

"I import it."

"Wonderful..."

Rose is staring at the contents of the bagel and donut boxes while Lou bustles around digging out a teapot, putting the kettle on, adding water to the pot to warm it and setting out some cups... and Debbie's still staring. Lou's eyes flick up for a moment and she shoots Debbie a secret little smile, but says nothing. 

When Rose is settled with her breakfast, Lou's cupping her own tea in her hands when she leans on the counter next to Debbie, that small smile still on her lips, dangerously fond. 

"Well, that's almost the whole family together..."

Debbie elbows her gently in the ribs. 

"Shut up... where did this come from?"

"Where did what come from?"

"The tea... when did you get so into tea?"

"It's one of the things that got me through it when things were hard. Food was a bit too much, but tea... well, it was something new that had a lot to it, it could be complicated or simple, and it wasn't... well, it wasn't something I associated with you, so it was... a way back. There was a little tea shop a couple of blocks away from the old apartment. They had a bar there, free samples... couple of glass pots on the go. I had no idea it could be that many different colours. It was... February I think, fucking /freezing/. Still not used to New York winters and I've been here god knows how long. They had this sign outside and I just... thought it might make me feel warm. Ended up becoming a regular. I don't really make it back so often now but I've built up a little selection of stuff I like."

Debbie nods, staring at her coffee for a moment before her gaze flicks up to meet Lou's eyes, almost shy about it. It feels... somehow more intimate than sex, asking if she can share in this, asking if she can be part of the life that Lou's built without her. 

"...I'd... love to try some, maybe? If you felt like sharing it with me?"

"...Yeah, sure. Maybe later or something? Once this lot have pushed off."

And Debbie's smile is real but fragile in reply as she sips her coffee again, but it feels like a promise that maybe they really do have a future, maybe this thing they have isn't entirely beyond repair. 

"How're you doing Rose? You sleep well last night?"

Debbie regards the 'children' over her too-hot, too-sweet coffee, inhaling the scent of it. It's one of the little things about being out of prison that reminds her she's back in the real world now. Amita is far too perky for this time in the morning as far as she's concerned, for all that sleep is elusive and she's still sort of running on prison time, Debbie still has feelings about appropriate energy levels and Amita is definitely exceeding them right now. 

"Actually... I did, in the end, and I'm as surprised as anybody else by that, I wonder if perhaps it was the adrenaline wearing off, but the moment I got back and my head hit the pillow I was out for the count love! How about you?"

"Oh, me too. I had no idea I'd sleep that well but I did. I feel great this morning. Oh and Tammy won the pool."

"Which pool is that, dear?"

"You know, the pool?"

Amita gestures at Lou and Debbie, and Debbie rolls her eyes because this is so ridiculous, and she doesn't need to look at Lou to know that Lou is grinning again, and Rose stares at them both over her glasses for a long moment, with her mouth open, before it clicks.

"OHHH! Oh that pool, of course, I see, so does that mean-"

"Yes, they did it last night, that's why the tension's no longer so thick you could cut it with a knife."

And Lou is /not/ hiding her laughter as well as she thinks she is while Debbie tries to maintain her best unimpressed face. 

"Oh I see, well yes, that would make sense..."

"Was it really THAT obvious?!"

Debbie explodes, and the silence is still broken by Lou's poorly muffled giggles, while Tammy's giving her the mom look again, and Amita and Rose just stare at her for a long moment. 

"...Well, I mean, yes dear, it wasn't entirely subtle, but I appreciate that you tried."

And that seals it and Debbie just hunches over her coffee cup like a grumpy Gollum, while Amita and Rose resume their conversation.

It's not much longer until Constance joins them, and the first thing Lou does (after she's successfully retrieved the piece of Toussaint Constance was responsible for) is usher her over to the fridge to take care of her leftover Chinese food. 

Debbie tries not to think too hard about quite how parental that looks.

Debbie takes a moment to just... admire the boxes. It's quite the collection of jewellery, even by her standards. Now all they need to do is find some appropriate older ladies to do the auctioning. That part won't be too difficult, out of work actresses often like a bit of a thrill, especially when it comes with proper remuneration. The boxes are plush and beautiful, and she just feels so proud, like it was all worth it somehow. They succeeded. They won. It was one hell of a challenge, and they met it and everything worked perfectly. She hasn't lost her edge. All the weeks, months, years of obsessing over this, of getting every detail of the plan perfect has paid off.

She strokes the one on the top of the pile, and a movement in her peripheral vision makes her look up and she catches Tammy's eye. 

"...You okay, Deb?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine thanks Tim-Tam. Just... I don't know. I mean it's not quite over yet, but..."

"We did it, Debbie. It's okay. It's over."

Debbie takes a deep breath, and Tammy reaches for her hand, covering it for a moment and squeezing gently. 

"It's... not quite over. There are a few loose ends to tie up, and we haven't necessarily gotten away with it yet."

"No, but we will. I have faith. I'm assuming you already have plans to fence them?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Fine jewellery has never really been my area anyway."

"No that's true Tam, but then, you've always been able to make anything your thing if you needed to."

"I'm a little out of practice."

"That's bullshit, you fit right in."

"Yeah, maybe so, but it'll be good to get to get back to my family."

"Yeah. Sorry for... you know, taking you away from them."

"I chose to come, Deb. I'm more than a mother. I love my kids, but they'll be just fine without me for a couple of weeks. You're an old friend and you needed my help, and let's be honest... the difference this could make to us... well, it's pretty big."

Debbie frowns, tilting her head a little, because Tammy didn't say a word about her husband, but it seems like maybe that's not something to poke and pry about right now. 

"Yeah. You know if you need anything you can count on me right?"

Tammy squeezes her hand again, and shoots a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. 

"Yeah Deb. I know."

"Hey Mom, how're you doin' today? I hear Tammy won the pool, gotta say I'm just glad you and Dad finally got down to it. I mean I can take a lot, y'know? But that was getting a little ridiculous."

"...Yes, hey Constance. I'm good thank you. How're you?"

"Pretty good. Thanks for breakfast Tammy, nice bagels."

"You're welcome Constance. I didn't think these two would remember."

"No but to be fair if I got Mom or Dad into bed, I probably wouldn't remember to get breakfast either."

"...Okay, look, I'm not... I'm not going to try fighting the battle to get you to not call me and Lou Mom and Dad, but if you're gonna call us that, you can't make comments about sleeping with either of us, okay? That... that's gonna need to be a line we have."

Debbie rubs her forehead, trying to chase away the headache that sometimes starts threatening when she talks to Constance for too long. 

"Deb. Need to talk to you."

And her head jerks up and round, and she spots Lou standing over by the door. 

"Oh... yeah, sure baby I'll be right there."

The endearment slips out before she thinks about it, because this time it's honest, not a joke, and she tries to pretend there's no colour high on her cheeks as she crosses the room over to Lou, hoping that none of the others noticed. The dead silence is rather suggesting that they did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I slightly changed the order of events here, but I felt like it fitted my narrative better. Unfortunately I had to watch the movie again to get the dialogue, which obviously was heart-breaking, I'm sure you can all sympathise. Apologies for the delayed update, I will try not to leave it so long in future, and I hope it was worth the wait (pun absolutely intended) ;)

Debbie follows Lou out towards the beach and the wind hits her in the face. She takes a few deep breaths, still savouring the taste of freedom, wrapping her arms around herself and crunching her way across the gravel and sand. Lou is standing with her hands on her hips, foot tapping on the ground and Debbie frowns. 

"Okay, what's going on?"

"We may have a problem."

"What problem."

"Cartier have called in an insurance agent."

"That's not a problem. Or it doesn't need to be. Do we have an ID?"

"Nine passed it to me. She figured I might be better at getting you alone without alarming anyone. No point in freaking out the others."

Lou handed the phone over with a picture pulled up on the screen, and Debbie took it, her frown rapidly shifting into a grin. 

"Oh, this isn't a problem."

"You know him?"

"Practically family."

"Is this a /him/ or...?"

"Nope. But we know each other. Professionally speaking. I can handle it."

"Is this part of your asterisk?"

"It's a contingency I planned for. Having it be John Frazier just makes it a bit easier."

Lou sighs and runs her fingers back through her hair, taking the phone back and shoving it into her pocket. 

"...Have you considered that there might be a contingency you /haven't/ planned for?"

"...I'm adjusting to the possibility of one as we speak but I'm waiting on secondary confirmation before I proceed."

"Debbie, you can't do this."

Lou's eyes are bright and hard, and Debbie's trying to stand her ground, but she's risked enough with Lou to get this far and whatever this fragile thing is between them, she can't risk it again now. 

"...We might have to reconsider the fact that, despite all appearance to the contrary, Daphne Kluger might be onto us. She's going to be one of the first people John speaks to, and he'll have recognised me. I mean, I'm on camera the whole time, cast iron alibi, but it'll raise questions, he'll ask. Knowing that it's him and he's here now, I can take steps, but he might be able to confirm for me... whether she has her suspicions."

"And if she does, what then?"

"...Then we reach out and see if she wants to try something a little different to mix up the actress schtick. It's not exactly a female-friendly career. Bet she could use some friends."

Lou raises an eyebrow but she's smiling now. 

"...Friends like us?"

"Baby, with friends like us, who needs enemies? Besides, eight shares of profit are better than seven shares of nothing."

"You make a convincing point."

Debbie grins, tilting her head and angling her body in towards Lou just a little more as the blonde steps forward to close the gap between them. She reaches up to cup Lou's cheek, running her thumb over the blonde's cheekbone. 

"...Oh baby, don't I always?"

Lou turns her face into Debbie's touch despite her better judgement, and brushes a kiss over her palm. 

"You know I trust you. But I don't have to like this. And when this really is all over... you need to start doing better about telling me things. About everything. Because there's no way this is going to work otherwise. You have to know that."

And Debbie can feel her heart in her chest, aware of it in a way she has never been before as she nods, gazing into Lou's eyes, and swallows trying to find the words. 

"...I know, Lou. I know."

And Lou shakes her head and her hands find their way to Debbie's waist and tug her close and off balance as they slide around her back and Debbie melts into Lou's body because that's where she belongs and fits and her forehead rests on Lou's shoulder as she takes another breath because Lou is warm and smells like heaven and it hasn't worn off yet. 

"We'd better head back in, you know... they'll figure something's up."

"Well, Nine Ball already knows and the others will assume it's just us figuring out our quote unquote 'shit'." Debbie wagged her fingers and Lou laughed. 

"Alright... let's go back in, play nice for a little while... you and Tammy can give a masterclass in how to select little old ladies for diamond auctions, and I'll reach out to a certain insurance claims investigator and see about catching up with an old friend..."

"What about Daphne Kluger?"

"I need to talk to John first. If he says something, then... well, we'll need to find a way to reach out."

"I like how you're still saying 'we'." Lou wagged her fingers now, and Debbie knows it's a sign she should possibly quit while she's ahead. 

She presses a quick kiss to the corner of Lou's lips, a tantalising hint of everything a kiss could be without quite getting there. 

"C'mon baby, you know I'm a control freak."

"I knew that when I married you?"

Lou's tone is dry and her eyebrow is arched, but there's a hint of a smile that takes the edge off the disappointment. 

"I might not have proposed yet, but I do have a diamond now."

"You have a whole lot of diamonds, baby..." Lou sighs and shakes her head, then steps back with a grin, a parting "Shame I'm not a diamonds kind of girl..." tossed over her shoulder as she heads back to the club, leaving Debbie in her wake until her brain clicks back into gear enough for her to catch up.

 

She walks into the bar and it hasn't changed. It's low-key, and warm, and nobody's looking at her twice. Debbie rather likes it that way. John Frazier is waiting in a booth already, and he lights up when he sees her, smiling, raising a hand in greeting because he has no chill and he never has and honestly she's glad the world hasn't changed him. There's a professional respect between them, and she honestly sleeps better at night knowing there are men like John out there. After Claude, remembering that there are good people out there, even if they're on the other side of the law... it's still refreshing. 

"Hello, John."

"Hello Debbie, you look well! How long's it been?"

"A few years... minus good behaviour."

She slides in next to him and slips her coat off her shoulders.

"Right."

"Yeah."

"Thank you for calling. I was going to call you-"

"Yeah, I didn't do it."

"Of /course/ not. You were just on camera twenty feet away while the jewels were being nicked, it's a /coincidence/."

"No, that's a solid alibi..."

Her tone is arch as she raises her chin a little, but she's still smiling, because this is a game and they both know it.

"No really, what is it, is it genetic? Are the whole family like this?"

"Except for my Aunt Ida."

"Librarian?"

"Homemaker."

Her eyes are dancing, and she knows, and she knows he knows.

"Right, I'm going to make this easy for you. I don't want you. I just want the necklace. I don't care. I'll say I found it in a cab."

This is a gamble, now, but this was always part of the plan and she needs this tied up in a neat little bow.

"How about some of it?"

"How much?"

"Hypothetically... ten percent?"

"...Where's the hypothetical rest?"

He's interested, she can tell. Damn, she always has been good at this.

"Oh, I don't know. Literally."

She wasn't expecting the sigh and the way he rubs his eyes, shoulders slumping, but she doesn't buy it either. John Frazier is smart. He had to be, to take down her brother, let alone her father, but this time he's just all part of the plan and the fact that it's an old friend just makes it easier. 

"Ugh... god this is exhausting! I mean, when they said come over, I was like... Ugh... You know, with the jet lag, the time difference, Arsenal are in the cup final this weekend... but now I'm here it's bloody interesting..."

"You've been busy, huh?"

"I've talked to so many people. I'll be honest, I never want to put a pipe down a sewer system again. I do not understand American plumbing."

"Well you've had a closer look than most. Who've you been talking to? I'm almost hurt I wasn't higher up the list."

"Well, started with the obvious... Cartier, the security, Daphne Kluger... she's very interesting, by the way. I'm sure I saw a flicker of something in her eyes when she saw your picture, but then she is a very good actress."

Debbie pulls up the picture she's been saving for this moment and hands the phone over without a word. John takes it, frowning. Then he gives her a little look. 

"So, it's not just profit, it's revenge. It's a twofer. He frames you, you frame him, scores are settled, I'm just the courier. All is right with the world, it's brilliant."

"Just trying to help out an old friend."

"Right, you know one day you are going to have to let this go.

Debbie takes back the phone and swipes off the picture as she sets it down again. 

"And one day, I will. So let's just say for... argument's sake, that I do know where there's a part of that necklace. Can you get a search warrant?"

"I need probable cause."

"Well. We may or may not be working on that right now."

 

When Debbie leaves the bar, she's expecting to have messages on her phone. What she isn't expecting is the one from Lou that reads: Come home NOW. Eyebrows practically in her hairline, Debbie Ocean steps into the street and hails a cab. Hell, she can afford it. 

The sight that greets her when she walks back into the club is Daphne Kluger ensconced in the centre of Lou's slightly battered couch like a queen holding court, with a champagne glass in her hand. 

Lou greets her at the door with a glass and a pointed expression. 

"Nice of you to join us."

"Sorry, I was delayed. There are some things even more important than Daphne Kluger after all."

"Really? After I hurled my guts up for you you don't even have the decency to say thank you?"

"Oh yeah, thanks for that. Really quality work, very convincing."

The others murmured and Daphne looked around while Debbie hid a smile behind her glass. 

"Chilly. Hi Daph! Welcome to the team , let's not all high five at once. Besides. I am the one who is saving your asses from insurance fraud."

Debbie winces. Lou is giving her the look which means there is no help coming from that quarter, Nine Ball looks as unfazed as ever, she's not sure Constance is really following things, but Tammy, Rose, and Amita are all looking /very/ concerned. 

"What?"

"Insurance fraud?"

"I was going to get to that."

"When?"

"It seems that they've assigned an insurance investigator-"

"Who?"

"Who's about to look up your ass with a flashlight. Oh this little Columbo dude? Everything but the trench coat, totally on to you."

"His /name/-" Debbie cuts across the babble of increasingly distressed conversation pointedly, "Is John Frazier."

"You know him?!"

That was Amita. There are times when Debbie still forgets how innocent she can be.

"Yes. He busted my father twice and my brother once."

Lou shrugs.

"He's family."

Debbie gives her a look but gets only a sunny smile in response. Really, she probably deserved that. 

"Oh right. Lest we forget, this whole enterprise was supposed to keep me out of jail."

That's Rose, and Debbie can hear that she's getting shaky, which is understandable. Rose is the only one here who hasn't spent time around criminals of one kind or another before. For a moment she wonders where the comfort nutella is. This time when Lou interjects, it's decidedly more helpful. 

"No one's going to jail."

"Are you sure?"

"We expected this, we prepared for this."

"Yup. That's clear."

"We will not be the prime suspects."

"Who will be the prime suspect?"

"Well, we've got a few. We've got the security guys, we've got the bus boys, we've got-"

And this is why Debbie loves running jobs with Lou, because Lou just /gets it/, and the way she's always so serenely in control is never anything but a turn on-

"The shady guy who put you away."

Debbie winces a little despite herself. She should have known that would never get past Tammy.

Daphne turns her bambi eyes on Debbie and for a moment the Ocean wonders how they could ever have thought Daphne Kluger was stupid. Then she remembers, she is a brilliant actress. 

"The boyfriend..."

"They were going to be looking for somebody. Just had to make sure it wasn't one of us."

She glances at Lou, wondering how she feels about the plan these days, but apparently even Lou isn't going to betray anything in front of this audience. 

"It's nice."

"Thanks."

"That is amazing! The precision, right? It's always the attention to detail and the little grace notes that really make something sing."

Debbie stares. She hadn't expected that level of cogition or enthusiasm from Daphne Kluger, but apparently the actress is a natural. She should have known. 

Everyone else is staring too, and it's Tammy who asks the question. 

"...Why are you doing this?"

Daphne looks a little unsure of herself for the first time since she walked in, a hint that there really is something more beneath what is a very complex and multi-layered facade.

"I... don't have many female friendships, and book clubs are the worst, so I just thought, you know... this could be something fun to share."

"So you're becoming a criminal because you're lonely."

"I mean who isn't sometimes, right?"

Daphne is looking around for support and Debbie just watches her critically. 

"...Were you an only child?"

Daphne refuses to make eye contact and Debbie sighs, smiling a little as she shakes her head and sets down her now empty glass. 

"Well. Hi Daph, welcome to the team. We've got a job for you."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. I think you're going to enjoy this one..."


	6. Chapter 6

It's late by the time everyone leaves again, and Debbie is honestly just... so ready for them to be gone. It's not that she doesn't love them, because she does, strangely. Each and every one of them. It's just that it's been... a lot to pack into the few weeks since she got out, and all of that is starting to catch up with her. 

Lou's behind the bar when she walks in to the empty club. It's not a night they're open, so she's pretty sure the glass polishing is just for show, or possibly cleaning up after the rest of the team. 

"Well hey there, what can I get you?"

She knows Lou's teasing, but it still makes her smile, weary and worn as she slides onto a bar stool and slides a ten dollar bill across the bar. 

"...Two fingers of scotch?"

Lou palms the bill and sticks it straight in her bra with a wink, reaching for a bottle. As she sets it on the bar and grabs the glass, both eyebrows are raised and her eyes are dancing. 

"Two fingers huh? You always struck me as more of a three finger girl. Did you want anything with that? Ice? Water?"

Despite herself Debbie laughs, because Lou's humour just settles into her soul and makes her feel whole again around all her desperately ragged edges. 

"...No thanks. And two's fine. Why don't you join me?"

"If I'm joining you it might need to be three, but I suppose since it's you..."

She pours the drinks out with a practiced hand and comes around to perch on the stool next to Debbie, reaching out to catch her elbow, holding her arm gently until Debbie glances up at her. 

The clink of their glasses echoes in the empty space, and the first sip burns, and Debbie welcomes it. The silence is comfortable, welcome, really, and neither of them feels the need to break it for the moment because touch is so much easier.

"...So you're not a diamond girl, huh?"

Debbie asks eventually, and Lou smiles, tilting her head and watching Debbie from under her fringe. 

"Not especially. Doesn't mean I'd say no though."

She traces a circle in the amber liquid in her glass, and licks the drops shamefully from her fingertip, grinning at the way Debbie's eyes are fixed on her mouth. 

"...You always did have a bit of an oral fixation, didn't you Deb."

"I mean, I've always been fixated on you..."

"Now THAT's true... but no, I've never felt diamonds were really /me/, you know?"

"What is you, then?"

Lou smirks as she takes another sip of her whisky, looking straight back into those gorgeous velvet-brown eyes. 

"...That's a very deep question, Debbie Ocean."

"Damn you, Lou Miller. If I'm going to ask you to marry me I want to get it right."

"And you don't trust yourself to do it on your own?"

Debbie snorts, but she smiles a little, rueful about it as she takes another swallow. 

"...Since when has making unilateral decisions about us worked out that well for me? I thought we'd established that. You're not a mark, and this isn't a heist. This is me trying to be... honest. Genuine. Authentic. Whatever you want to call it, it scares the hell out of me. But... I want this, with you, if you want it. And that means wanting to get it right, and the only way to be sure I'm doing that is to ask you. Even if it does kind of spoil the surprise."

Lou watches her for a long moment, then to Debbie's eternal relief, she smiles and sets her glass down. 

"You know, you're really shit at proposals."

"Then how about you tell me what kind of ring you'd like and I'll give you a better one?" Debbie knows she's not quite keeping the exasperation out of her voice, and she also knows Lou can hear it because of the shit-eating grin on her face as she drains the last finger of amber liquid in one long swallow. She hesitates a little, eyes flicking from Lou to the bar and back again as her fingers flex. "But... if I did, you would... say yes?"

The silence stretches on for a long moment and she's watching Lou's face, the lines of her body, the way she's so perfect leaning on one elbow on the bar, legs crossed, all long limbs, beautifully, incredibly perfect, distorting the space around her. 

It feels like an eternity before Lou smiles. 

"... I think, on balance, yes, I probably would."

"Probably?"

Lou grins. 

"Don't you like a little uncertainty?"

"...You are unbelievable."

"I think that's a bit rich coming from you, don't you?"

Debbie laughs and drains the last of her whisky, hand resting on Lou's thigh.

"Yeah I suppose you're right..."

"I usually am." Lou shifts a little, somehow wrapping an arm around Debbie's waist and tugging the Ocean to lean into her. Debbie goes. She couldn't resist, even if she wanted to. She doesn't want to. She tucks her head into Lou's shoulder, under her chin, and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath because Lou always smells so good and as far as Debbie's concerned, she smells like home. "...So, how was today?"

"...Long. Busy too. There was... a lot to manage."

"Mmmn... you did it though?"

"We did it. And anyway, weren't you pissed at me earlier?"

"I was a bit, yes. That doesn't actually stop me making the time to take care of you, since for some godforsaken reason I still love you. I know after everything, and despite your many talents, which include barefaced lying, this is still a lot, and maybe you don't have all the resources you'd like for dealing with it."

Debbie sighs, shifting back to look Lou in the eye again, but still holding onto her almost subconsciously. 

"...You're right, I don't. How do you think it went?"

"Well, Daphne seemed to slot into the team quite nicely, and it will probably bear keeping an eye on her because she was surprisingly comfortable surprisingly quickly. All being well you should have your probable cause tonight, you can send that on to John Frazier, we can get the rest auctioned next week and Claude should be out of your life forever before we break down the rest of the stuff."

Debbie rolls her shoulders, stretching, and then she nods. 

"...Alright. So on balance we're in a pretty good place."

"On balance, we are, yes. But I meant it when I said you needed to be better about telling me shit if this is going to work, Deb. I get why you didn't want to, but I dont have to like it. Now, I want this with you, because there has never been anybody like you. Before you let that go to your head, I want to make it clear that I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing. We all have our issues, me included, and I get that there are parts of you that are lost and hurting right now. I'm not asking you to deal with those on your own. But you need to make a real effort to be honest with me, at least in private, okay? Especially if it's something that affects me."

Debbie winces and sighs, reaching for Lou's hand and squeezing it. 

"...Yeah. That's fair. And I will do better. I promise."

Lou's watching her because she knows what Debbie looks like when she's lying and every tell, every signal she knows says that this is a promise Debbie intends to keep.

"...Alright. Well. You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Wanna order Chinese? Or I can cook?"

"I don't mind. What were you planning to make?"

"Salmon, I think. Bit of a nice citrussy avocado salsa with it, maybe some potato salad."

"Ooh that sounds good..."

"Yeah?" Lou smiled, cupping Debbie's jaw gently again, thumb stroking her cheekbone as she urges Debbie to look up at her again, "...We can have that if you want, that's fine."

It takes a moment for Debbie to realise what Lou's doing, and then it clicks and she feels her heart aching in her chest, turning her face into Lou's touch, pressing a kiss to her palm because words are hard and she's so much better at gestures really. 

"...Please? I can help, maybe?"

"I guess you can help make the salsa. That probably should be safe enough for you to attempt."

"Come on, that seems harsh."

"...Debbie, I have known you to burn water. C'mon. I'm hungry."

Lou pats Debbie on the leg and slides off the stool, heading through to the kitchen. She pulls all the ingredients out that she needs and sets them out on the counter, mentally running through the list when she feels Debbie's arms slide around her waist again, tucking herself to her back just like she had this morning. Lou covers Debbie's arms with her own, letting her hold on. There's no real rush to this after all. 

"...Food is hard, and choice can be overwhelming, but we'll figure this out, okay?"

"...Yeah. So, what am I doing?"

"You're chopping avocado and red onion, and squeezing lime juice. Think you can handle that?"

"I think I can rise to the challenge."

"I'm not so sure, but here we are..."

Lou hands her a small knife and grins, eyes dancing. 

"Prove me wrong."

~

Dinner turns out surprisingly well, and they sit down to eat it with a glass of chilled white wine, a moment that's just for the two of them and which feels so blessedly uncharged compared to all the evenings which have led to this moment. The job isn't quite over, but to all intents and purposes it's in the territory of tidying up loose ends now. That doesn't mean they can afford to get sloppy, of course, not, but it does mean that the frenetic drive is gone and there's less of a charge to the air. It's also the first time in weeks when there hasn't been at least one other person here with them, whether it was Nine Ball or Rose or Tammy... and it's nice, if surprisingly, cosily, domestic. 

"That was delicious, thank you."

"I'm glad you liked it. I'll make a note of that."

"I'll do the dishes."

"Seems fair, since I cooked. What do you want to do this evening?" 

Debbie hesitates, considering for a long moment, and when she looks back up again she's surprisingly hesitant about it. 

"...Do we... have to do anything?"

"No. We don't have to do anything."

Lou's voice is low and Debbie can feel it like velvet on her skin, because she's so attuned to /everything/ about Lou. The blonde tilts her head, smiling gently. 

"You tired?"

"...Amazingly, yes. I think it's all catching up with me a bit."

"Alright. You take care of the dishes, then how about we grab a shower and call it a night?"

"...Together?" Debbie asks, as she gets up and clears the plates, eyes never leaving Lou's face, and a dusting of colour on her cheeks that she would never admit to. 

Lou grins. 

"...Well, that's what I was thinking? Doesn't have to be though."

"No, a shower together sounds good... then... could I maybe have a cup of tea?"

Lou blinks, a little surprised, but it had come up earlier and she supposes it makes sense. 

"...Sure. Do you know what you might like?"

"...I guess I'll try whatever you recommend?"

And Lou smiles softly as she watches Debbie run a bowl of water for the dishes. 

"Alright. I'll give that some thought. Come up when you're ready, I'll go get things sorted upstairs."

The dishes don't take long, and Debbie takes the time to dry them and put everything away in its place, marvelling somewhat at the turns her life has taken to bring her here. It's not really where she thought she'd end up, what she thought she'd be doing, but... right now she doesn't really feel like she'd change it. Instead she looks around the kitchen, wipes down the surfaces, and heads for the stairs, rolling her eyes at herself because domesticity was never her. 

She pauses in the bedroom to undress, and smiles as Lou's arms slide around her ribs. 

"...Get tired of waiting for me?"

"Well I'm naked already, thought maybe I could help hurry the process up for you to get to that stage too?"

Debbie laughs and leans back into her, appreciating the feeling of Lou's bare skin against her shoulders as the blonde unhooks her bra and eases it off, taking the opportunity to cup Debbie's breasts and squeeze just a little. Debbie rests her head on Lou's shoulder and sighs happily before those clever hands slide down to unfasten her pants and let them drop, tugging at the waistband of her panties too. 

"...Alright. Shower time?"

"Shower time."

She follows Lou back to the bathroom and lets the rightness of this sink into her. It feels warm, and unhurried, and although there's desire between them it's not a roaring fire but more of a comfortable background hum, because... she can't take this for granted, but she can trust that maybe it isn't going anywhere. It's like adjusting to the availability of food after famine. The ever-present knowledge that she is here, somewhere safe where she doesn't have to look over her shoulder, with a woman who loves her, wholly, completely, and unashamedly. It still makes her shiver in the best possible way. 

The spray is strong and hot and it takes her breath away, as does Lou stepping in behind her, easing her back against the wall for a kiss, something slow and hot and stretching on as they break and reunite again and again while the shower comes down over their heads, like kissing in the rain. 

They wash each other, nothing rushed about it because with this being Lou's place they also don't have to worry about the hot water running out, taking pleasure in the intimacy of touch which doesn't always have to be about sex or desire but can instead be trust and appreciation. 

Lou's the one who turns the shower off, when Debbie is half-melted against her, head pillowed on her shoulder, arms around her waist, plastered to Lou's body the way her long hair is plastered to her back. Lou presses a kiss to her temple and carefully negotiates the two of them out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around Debbie first before she wraps one around herself. The heated towel rail was definitely one of her better investments in this place, because there was nothing like the small joy of wrapping up in a really nice, warm, huge, fluffy towel after a shower. In the depths of winter it's definitely one of her favourite things. 

By the time they make it back to the bedroom, Debbie is a little more awake. Lou's not surprised that the shower took it out of her. Debbie rarely crashes until she comes to rest, but this is the closest to rest she's been for weeks, and Lou feels a little glow of pride that Debbie is willing to let her see this. 

"You okay there baby?"

"Yeah, just... tired, sorry."

"No problem. Still want that tea?"

Debbie yawns as she answers, "Yes please..." and Lou smiles because really, she is adorable. 

"...Alright. I'll see what I can come up with."

She grabs a pair of boxers and a crop top to pull on instead of her towel, not particularly wanting cold air on bare, wet skin. She heads down to the kitchen and looks over her tea collection, musing as she brushes packets with her fingers because now doesn't really feel like a time for something caffeinated. There. That one will do. Rooibos, caffeine-free and flavoured with strawberries and vanilla, something that will suit Debbie's sweet tooth and which benefits from a little milk, which is even better at bedtime. 

She makes two mugs and carries them upstairs, finding Debbie in a silk nightdress that looks incredible against her skin. 

"...Here. I like this one. See what you think?"

She hands it over, and Debbie takes a sip. 

"...Oh, that is nice. What is it?"

"It's a rooibos, that's redbush tea. No caffeine. Seeing how ready you were to pass out, I thought that seemed like a good plan."

"It tastes really nice."

I'm glad you like it. I'll make a note."

Lou sets her own mug down on the bedside table and sits on the bed. 

"...You ready for bed?"

"God yes..."

Lou smiles and swings her legs up, snuggling under the blankets and waiting for Debbie to do the same on the other side, her arm out ready to gather the Ocean in close where she belongs, and Debbie doesn't hesitate to mold herself to Lou's side, this night so similar and yet so different to the heat and closeness of the night before. Lou presses another kiss to her temple, a quick gesture of affection that feels so easy between them, and she loves the way it makes Debbie smile. Lou's never really seen the sense in being ashamed or restrained about showing affection to those she loves, and although it doesn't come so naturally to Debbie. 

"...I love you, you know that?"

"...I know. I love you too."

"You've done well. You should be proud."

"Are you proud?"

"I'm always proud of you."


	7. Chapter 7

When the morning dawns again, Debbie is pleasantly surprised to wake and find herself wrapped in Lou's arms. It somehow feels new and familiar all at once, and she lies there for a long moment to bask in it. It's been a long time coming, and it feels different now. It's not the same as it was before, before prison, before Claude... it wasn't better, but it was certainly different. They hadn't exactly been young before, no. They'd been young when they met, but this relationship was practically old enough to drink. It had changed and evolved the way relationships always did, but before... everything, it had felt more like... well, they'd been stuck, really, going around and around having the same old fights, pulling the same old cons, getting older and wondering why nothing had changed and yet at the same time everything had changed. 

Maybe that was part of the attraction to Claude. Oh, who was she kidding, of course it had been. He'd been handsome and smooth and... different. He'd been interesting and new and he'd been interested in her, when half the time it felt like Lou didn't even look at her anymore. Somehow pulling cheap cons at roulette and running bingo was so exhausting that when they fell into bed the heat was gone and they barely even touched. Despite all of that Debbie had been starting to think terrifying thoughts about settling down, about whether how comfortable she felt with Lou was enough to build something more on. They weren't going anywhere, the jobs were small time and boring and there was nothing bigger or more promising on the horizon and she was an Ocean, she deserved more than this... except she hadn't, not really, not then, and trying to get it and to ignore the way she wanted Lou, the way she was suddenly so scared of it when she'd been so shameless about their relationship for so long as long as she could write it off as casual... half the reason she'd been pulling away was the fear of what she might admit in an unguarded moment. 

She sighs heavily because apparently mornings are the time for ruminating now, that unfortunate period between regaining consciousness and being alert enough to put the walls up that keep her sane. She feels Lou nuzzle up behind her ear, her breath skittering over Debbie's skin as one hand slides up the skin of her stomach, nails dragging just enough to make her shiver. 

"...You know, we're really going to have to do something about this bad habit you seem to have acquired."

"I mean, you make a valid point."

"What was it this time?"

"Nothing new. this is nice?"

"Yeah, it is... turns out I sleep better next to you, much as I spent a lot of time trying to deny that to myself."

"Yeah, you never like to admit to being a bit of a cuddlewhore in your sleep."

"You take that back."

Debbie is giggling now, laughing, and it's bubbling out of her and she can't stop it and it feels so good because Lou is propped up on her elbow behind her, hand resting on Debbie's ribs, stroking over her skin, and they're both grinning and the tension is bleeding out and this is it, this is right, this is how it's supposed to be, curled up in bed with Lou making fun of each other because this is /safe/ and it aches how badly she needs this. 

Lou rolls Debbie onto her back, moving over her now, grinning, and she's right there and Debbie can't stop laughing long enough to kiss her, but Lou's taking care of that for her and they're sharing laughter and kisses and /air/ and it feels like home. 

It takes a little while for Debbie to catch her breath again because every time she catches Lou's eye it's enough to set her off, but eventually she calms down, her muscles aching in the best way with the exertion, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and she feels real and human again. It's a feeling she savours because these days it's not really something constant. 

Lou trails her fingers lightly along Debbie's cheek, curling them into her hair and leaning in for a kiss, real and sweet, more appreciation than heat, and Debbie melts into it because why wouldn't she, she's still so fucking grateful to have this again. 

Eventually it breaks and Lou props herself back up again, still practically nose to nose, and Debbie can feel Lou's heart beating against hers, the warmth of Lou's body and the acres of skin where they're touching all over. 

"So, what were you thinking about this time?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

Lou tilts her head, one eyebrow quirked now as she grins. 

"...You still with me there Ocean?"

"...Yes. I just got..."

"Distracted?"

"Distracted. You got a map? I think I got lost in your eyes?"

That makes Lou crack up all over again, and Debbie is smiling so hard her face aches because she's the one making Lou laugh like this and they're both finally able to be... entirely themselves. 

"...That was terrible, you know that, don't you. Your brother teach you to use lines like that?"

"No he was always smoother than me."

"I don't know, I've seen you work a mark, you're pretty damn good."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'll be honest, my favourite thing about the Met Gala job was the shot Nine Ball managed to get of Claude Becker's face when you deliberately bumped into him at the drinks table. What did you say to him by the way?"

Debbie's grin is pure wickedness and Lou is staring at her like she can't breathe, hypnotised by the way the pink tip of Debbie's tongue darts out to slick up her lips, and Debbie curls her fingers just lightly against Lou's lower back, knowing just how to press her nails in as she breathes, "Viel glück..." and Lou's whole body /shivers/ as a reaction. 

Debbie grins as the two of them shift how they fit together, just a little, just enough so that Lou's thigh shifts between hers and Debbie's presses up against Lou in return, just a little bit, just enough. 

"...You always did like hearing me talk dirty, didn't you baby."

"...There is some stupid self-destructive part of me that enjoys watching you artisanally screw someone over, yes, and hearing you do it in German is just... I'd forgotten how fucking hot it was until you were distracting those guards when we were... well..."

Debbie shifts her leg just a little, watching the way Lou bites her lip, a flush on her cheeks. 

"Du machst mich so geil... Leck meine Muschi Liebling? Mmm... ich bin ganz feucht..."

Lou shudders, biting her lip and closing her eyes for an instant as she curls her fingers against Debbie's skin and the brunette combs her fingers back through Lou's blonde mane because it's so rare that she's the one in control like this. 

"Mmm... and what does that mean?"

Lou licks her lips, and Debbie can feel the way her heart is racing with the way they're pressed together, so the Ocean leans in to rest their foreheads together, that sinful smile still on her face as she nuzzles her lover, then shifts just that little bit to breathe in her ear: 

"You make me so horny... lick my pussy baby? I'm so wet..."

That's enough to drag a moan from Lou, low and wanting, and Debbie grins as her own eyes close, arching back against the pillow as she focuses all her attention on the trail of kisses and bites Lou is leaving down her body. Oh yes, the rest of the day can wait...

~

By the time they're both lying back, sweaty and tangled and sated in the sheets, it's gone eleven and Debbie groans as she glances over at the clock, then buries her face in the pillow. 

"...Ugh... please don't tell me we have to get up?"

"If by that you mean are people coming over then as far as I'm aware, no. We should have the place to ourselves today..."

Lou flops over onto her back, but she's watching Debbie with a fond smile resting on her lips. 

"...Hungry?"

Debbie lifts her head just a little, face scrunched in consideration. 

"...I... think so?"

Lou rolls back onto her side to meet Debbie's eyes, frowning a little. 

"...That sounds like progress... how's that whole feeling like you're in your own body thing going today?"

"Seems okay? I mean, it's early days, but..."

"I had an idea that might help?"

"Yeah? I mean... I'll try anything, honestly..."

"Okay. How about I go make some breakfast and then maybe we can try it?"

Debbie tilts her head, expression quizzical, hair tumbling down into her eyes, and Lou can't help but smile fondly at the familiar way Debbie brushes it back. 

"...You going to tell me anything more than that?"

Lou just grins, hands on her hips, hair in her eyes, sun on her skin and Debbie wouldn't have her any other way because she looks like a goddess. 

"...You trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then not yet. But if it's freaking you out, just say, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

And Debbie wraps the sheet around her and watches Lou disappear in the direction of the kitchen. 

Breakfast is in bed, and Debbie's not sure how Lou managed it but it's fresh bagels with cream cheese and lox and coffee, cuddled up in the sheets together and not worrying about the crumbs. 

She licks a bit of cream cheese off her finger and glances at Lou sidelong under her lashes. 

"...This is good. How'd you get them? You weren't exactly dressed for going out when you headed for the kitchen."

Lou grins and gives her a quick kiss. 

"I made a quick call. There's an old-fashioned bakery a couple of blocks from here. I found them while you were inside. Some days it was the only thing I could eat. Guess it reminded me of the places you used to find. I've got a good relationship with them and so I called them up and they dropped round some breakfast. I thought it might be something a little different."

"It is. It's good."

"I know."

Lou grins, and Debbie huffs out a laugh and swats gently at her arm as she finishes her coffee. 

"...Thanks."

"Always a pleasure baby. Wanna grab a shower?"

"Mmm... is this part of your plan?"

"Might be?"

Debbie shrugs and climbs out of bed, albeit reluctantly, though the prospect of wet, naked Lou does quite a lot to take the sting out of it. 

Lou laughs, free and easy and perfect and Debbie follows her through to the bathroom. It's just like last night really, slow and warm and perfect, but they did work up a bit of a sweat with their morning workout and it's refreshing. The novelty of being able to bathe whenever she wants hasn't worn off yet for Debbie. It's another piece of that conditioning, that routine which is going to take a while to shake. She's just grateful Lou's patient about it. 

It's after the shower, when they're both wrapped in towels that Debbie glances at Lou again, curious now. 

"...So, what was your idea?"

Lou shrugs, towelling her hair off and hanging the towel up to dry. 

"...I was wondering whether a massage would help. With the dissociation, I mean. I figured a shower could be a nice warm up to it, and last night was fun. That's partially where the idea came from, I think, and besides we both needed it this morning. But if being touched... anchors you in your body then maybe..."

"Being touched by you."

Debbie interrupts her to clarify that point, because that's the most important point. There isn't anyone else who could ground her in her body by touch. She's pretty sure if anyone else tried what Lou is trying it would just make the dissociation a hundred times worse. Their relationship has always been physical, and that means that some of their coping mechanisms really wouldn't work with anyone else. After all, it's one of the golden rules that sex isn't supposed to be used as a solution to things, but the way it is between them... it clarifies things, it makes them talk... and it makes talking afterwards easier too. 

Lou's gaze doesn't waver as she nods, understanding all the things that Debbie means but isn't saying, can't find words for. 

"Yeah. So, you wanna try it?"

Debbie hesitates for a second, her eyes flicking away, and Lou takes a step to close the gap between them just a little bit, reaching out to touch Debbie's arm, give her that anchor point if she needs it. 

"...Yeah. Yes. I do. Want to try it. Thank you."

Lou nods, a sharp jerk of her head. 

"Okay then."

Once more Debbie is the one following Lou as the blonde heads back into the bedroom and straightens the bed, and Debbie climbs onto it, feeling her heart pounding far out of proportion for something like this. It's not like they haven't been intimate, for crying out loud, this is nothing new, but somehow it feels like so much more and she doesn't... know how to process it. Instead she closes her eyes and curls her fingers into the sheets and tries to focus on how they feel against bare skin because they're so much softer than the prison issue ones and this is home, this is safety, this is the club with Lou and not being back in prison even if she can't see, so she focuses on smell and sound and touch. 

She can feel Lou's hands on her shoulders, resting lightly, warm and familiar with a few callouses from her motorbike, and when she hears Lou's voice it sounds like it's far away at first. 

"...Baby? You're really tense, are you okay there?"

"...Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Just. Can you talk to me, please?"

Lou brushes a kiss to her shoulderblade. 

"...Yeah. Yeah I can do that."

And Debbie closes her eyes and tries to force herself to relax, to focus on Lou's touch and her voice and nothing else. 

"There we go... you're so tense, but it's going to be okay, I promise... there we go... you're so beautiful, you know that? I mean, I'm sure you do, and you hear it a lot, mostly from me, but you really are... it's... good to have you home, Deb. Cause this is home. This was always going to be home, even if we hadn't come back to this because I don't think my life would have felt complete without you in it. Like a puzzle with a missing piece. I could have handled it, if you hadn't wanted to get back together, but... well. I'm glad you do. I'm glad we're trying this again. I'm glad you're trusting me."

There's a scent in the air, lavender, one of Lou's favourites, and Debbie can feel the oil on her skin and the way Lou is working it into muscles she hadn't realised existed, strains she'd assumed were permanent, settling bones back into place and her body into alignment as she frees trapped nerves and Debbie isn't sure when Lou learned to do this but she thinks it might be her new favourite skill. 

"It's strange how easy it is to talk to you like this, but then neither of us has ever been very good at words. I'm better at them though. You think too much and the thoughts get tangled up and even if you can find the words they die in your throat before they can reach your lips because you're too scared of the consequences of getting it wrong. I was kind of surprised and not at the same time that after six years I could still read you the way I can, but I guess I should have expected it."

Lou's working into her lower back now, and her hips, and Debbie can feel it, feel every point of contact, every stroke of Lou's hands over the planes of her body and Lou's right, it is anchoring, it is grounding, it feels like being herself because she's hyper aware of Lou's touch, the way she always has been. 

There's a brief pause when Lou slicks up her hands again and moves from her hips to her feet, working into the soles and then up her calves, into and around her knees, and oh, Debbie hadn't realised how much of a mess those were and she lets out a little whimper, leading Lou to brush a kiss to the back of her thigh. 

"...You okay there? Still with me? Need me to stop?"

"No. Please."

Lou's hands do stop and Debbie curses herself as she desperately tries to find the words, flicking through her mental files to put a sentence together that expresses what she means because Lou has always been very firm about affirmative consent between them. 

"Please what, baby?"

"Please don't stop. It's so good."

Another light kiss there, and Lou resumes her ministrations and Debbie could almost cry from relief. 

"...Is it helping?"

"Yes."

"Good..."

When she's satisfied with Debbie's legs, Lou gives the same treatment to her arms, and then just spends some time running her hands over Debbie's body, bringing her back up from the state of melted relaxation she'd achieved at some point in the last... she's not even sure how long. The touches are what keep her grounded, what stop her drifting off into her own mind on currents which might at first seem benevolent but which lead into dark, twisted caverns she doesn't want to explore just yet. 

Eventually Debbie rolls back over onto her back, gazing up at Lou, naked and vulnerable with huge brown eyes and Lou gazes back, waiting. 

"...Thank you."

The smile is quick to bloom, bright and real as Lou wipes the excess oil off on a towel. 

"... Any time. Seriously. If it helps, we can do that. Regularly or just... whenever you need grounding. I don't mind."

Debbie sits up, arms around her knees as she curls into a ball around herself. 

"...Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I took a course. Something to do to keep myself busy and it's always a useful skill."

"...I could learn too? So I can... for you, if you want?"

Lou smiles, eyes crinkling a little at the edges, quick and warm and real. 

"...Sure, if you want. Don't rush to though. You're perfect as you are. You want some clothes there?"

Debbie nods, then hesitates, ducking her head, and then setting her jaw as she looks at Lou, cheeks red as she asks,

"...Can I borrow one of your shirts?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, the things I google for these two...
> 
> Thank you all for your patience <3


End file.
